Helmeted
by ReadingChassis
Summary: *POSSIBLE SPOILERS* Set just after the events of Bioshock 2, a Big Daddy awakens dazed and confused. Follow him through his eyes, as he explores the ruins of Rapture! Occasional language, violence and blood.
1. The Awakening

**SPOILER WARNING: As Bioshock 2 is still new, readers intending to play Bioshock 2 and don't want to get spoilers should avoid this fic (until you finished it, then yes, please read! ^_^).**

Anyway, hey guys, first Bioshock fic. I loved the Big Daddies in Shock 1, and obviously getting to play one in Shock 2 was a blast. So, here's my attempt to craft a story of our drill-monsters (inspired largely in part by RatherHomely's Inside). Timeline? Shortly after Bioshock 2. And as with all fic writers, I'll be sticking as close to the lore as possible, while still having certain liberties to accommodate my ideas and writing style. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: As if I could own Bioshock, or anything else in this atmospheric world. I suppose the only thing I could possibly 'own' are the characters I cook up. Which, let's be honest, who'd want them :P

And thus, I begin my story with...

******

_Utopia cannot precede the Utopian._

-Sofia Lamb

**The Awakening**

The light was extremely unwelcoming, _unwanted_. But it continued to assail his eyes even as they are closed. He could feel the thumps in his chest accelerating, as the palpitations began to send tremours to his head. His vision pulsated as he opened his eyes – a rather unpleasant way to wake up, and found that he was wearing a helmet with eight portholes. He let out a low, resonating groan; his voice rumbled deep, and... distorted?

His limbs refused to respond, and as he struggled, he realised that he was strapped to a table. Horrendously bright lights in front of him continue to assault his eyes, and his rage swelled. Releasing a hauntingly reverberating howl, he summoned the strength in all of his limbs, and pulled. Something cracked, and he found his footing.

He took a moment to survey his surroundings; he felt a need to do so. But there was something... else. Something was missing, but he did not know what. A glass vat sat in the corner, containing a kind of sickly red liquid. Directly above him, he read the words 'Protector Candidate', and to the side, 'Gatherer Candidate', though the table was empty. His own table seemed to be missing; only a metallic stump was left there, and his limbs still felt oddly restricted...

He could not lift the constant haze that permeated his mind; thinking was... difficult. It was as if there was something _actively_ blocking his higher thought processes. His mind remained receptive however; he understood his surroundings, what the words meant, but somehow had the reduced the ability to _act_ on it. There was no reaction to the information that fed his mind, no initiative, no drive. And there was no need to. All he needed was... was... something.

He must move. He needed to find it. He had no idea what it is, but he felt that once he saw it, he would know. Looking around, he saw an audio diary recorder; he knew what it was, but he didn't know _how_ he knew. Reaching out with his left hand (and for reasons he cannot fathom, his entire body moved along – but that's not important now), he grabbed the little audio diary with his gloved meaty sausage fingers (where did the glove come from? Not important now...) and accidentally clicked a button. The disc whirred, ending with a click:

_...[indistinct gravel groan] (male voice) Ah! Lee! So glad you could join us! [another indistinct groan] Fresh from your LOVELY bath? I must say, old boy, I'd wouldn't try bathing in a vat full of ADAM (softly) sweet, sweet ADAM (normal volume), cause y'know, it might... DO things to you!_

_But hey ho! A good kid follows what his Mother tells him to, yea? Unlike you. You're what we –[indistinct groan] OH SHUT UP, LEE!! Now, where was-- ah! Righto! You're the black sheep of the Family. Thing is... we ain't GOT sheep! Ah HAHAH!_

_Instead, we got Big Daddies! Right here in your VERY own workspace! Nice, aren't we?! We've used your own vat --(a sickening sound of metal piercing flesh is heard, followed by an indistinct groan) and now, we're gonna (another piercing sound) use (another) your (another) own (another) plasmids! AIN'T WE GRAND?!_

_Oh, you also gotta know we're cutting costs. Sorry bud, you ain't getting those new fancy models. You're going Bouncer. A really old one. Serves you fucking right!_

_[pause]_

_Oh, by the way? This is supposed to hurt!_

_[the sound of a lever being lowered]_

_[the sound of liquids flowing, followed by a horrible, distorted howl]_

_[static]_

_:: click ::_

There was a tingling sensation at the back of his head. He felt it was important to commit this to memory. Yes, it had to be important. And so he set off, each crashing footstep sending small tremours through the halls of Rapture...

******

And that's my first shot at a Bioshock fanfic! Please review! ALL constructive comments are welcomed; I'd like to know where I went right, and more importantly, where I went wrong. Obviously, if the fic is not worth reading, then I'll stop; no point wasting my time and yours with written drivel.


	2. Protector

Notes: Chapter 2! Thanks very much for your reviews! Some of you have given me some ideas to play around with, which is sweet ^_^

Just to clarify, this fic isn't about Delta; in my mind, Delta 'dies' in every possible ending. But then, in every story, there's always a chance of not being truly dead, so I suppose I shouldn't write him off yet :P

Anyhoo, hope you enjoy!

******

**Protector.**

The audio diary _clicked_ and _whirred_.

_(Male voice)_

_Where does the Man end, and the Monster begin?_

_(Sigh) The rest of Rapture see the Protectors as pitiful tools; mindless handymen and the cursed guardians of the Gatherers. Abominations, they called them! Fools condemned to a terrible fate, they say!_

_And yet, I cannot help but see the spark of the Utopian in them. They are the only creatures that have won over the selfish gene; self preservation is a foreign concept to them – they know only enough so that they can continue the duties given to them. Everyone knows that they would protect a Gatherer to their dying breath; I myself have seen a dying Protector crawling futilely towards a Gatherer, trying to drill the offending splicer in a last ditch effort. In vain, of course._

_Does that make them less of a man, or more?_

_:: click ::_

He found it... surprisingly easy to commit the audio diary to memory. His thoughts seemed to flow better as time went by; perhaps it had to do with the constant pumping of fluids and nutrients by his suit. He glanced around the office; one of the bookshelves had fallen over, with the books scattered and torn all over the floor. A safe in the wall, with its mouth slightly ajar – the contents robbed a long time ago. Empty hypo needles were strewn all over, along with empty plasmid jars. A brass plate with the name 'Lee' was embedded into the desk.

Letting out a low, rumbling sigh, the Bouncer lumbered out of office, his limbs (particularly his arms) still felt oddly restricted. No, what he was looking for isn't here. It must be elsewhere, it must be close. He could feel it...

A gunshot rang throughout the hallways. Followed by another, and another. A high pitched, _dissonant_ screech flared, and the Bouncer thought his head would explode. He felt a sudden surge of urgency; his instincts telling him that danger was close. His feet began to move quicker; each step rocking the very foundations of Rapture.

He turned at the corner, and raced down the hallway. He _knew_ that he needed to be _fast_, or something _very_ bad would happen. He didn't have to go far, before he spotted a Big Sister holding up a splicer by his face in one hand, and the other hand drawing back, ready to piece the splicer with an extremely huge needle.

His body moved on its own; he instinctively flicked his porthole lights to red, and began charging the duo, roaring a terrible warning. The Big Sister turned to face the Bouncer, and tilted her head in confusion. She turned back to the splicer, almost unconcerned, ready to pierce the squirming body with her needle.

:: _**CRASHHHH!!**_ ::

Diving suit met with diving suit; the Bouncer had charged into the Big Sister, and as he flung his right arm at her, he realised why his arms felt restricted. He had sent his surgical table flying into the Big Sister, the straps on his arms snapping at the force of his swing. Had he been carrying his surgical table with him all this while?

The Big Sister shot a hand in the air, and caught the table mid-air with an unknown force. The Bouncer was perplexed, before he realised that the table had suddenly changed course – towards him now. As he smashed the flying table away with his left hand, the Sister let out a horrible _screech_, as she cocked her head in various directions, eyeing the Bouncer, before pulling several pieces of debris around her, hurling them viscously at the Bouncer.

He did not know who, or what she was, but he knew she was very angry and confused. He drilled one of the debris into pieces; but at least two smacked the side of his helmet _hard_. The ringing hadn't stopped, as the Sister shrieked once more, before leaping into the air, disappearing into the vents above.

He gazed at the vents for ten long seconds and roared, before turning around. The splicer had just gotten up to his feet and frantically searched for his pistol. The Bouncer lumbered slowly towards the splicer; each step seemingly to cause more panic in the splicer.

" Git back! Git the fuck back, ya _freak!_" :: _click click _:: His pistol was empty. Not that it would have done much in the first place.

" Ohh, shii-- look 'ere, I din do nothin', alright?! I din touch her none; she came for _ME! _Aahhhhh, _fuck!_" He cursed, tripped over a pile of debris.

" Oh god, oh _shit_. I din touch her! I din touch her!!" He kept repeating.

The Bouncer stopped just at the splicer's legs; he could see the splicer trembling as he flung his pistol at the Bouncer's head, pinging off the helmet harmlessly. The Bouncer let out a short moan, and picked up the splicer by the shirt.

"GAAAH! PUT ME DOWN! PUT ME DOWN!!"

The Bouncer rotated the splicer around. Noting that there were no serious wounds, the Bouncer let out another short moan, and flicked his lights green. And he set the splicer down, _gently_.

" PUT ME DOWN!! PUT ME – oh hey. Uh... _what the hell?"_

The splicer seemed very confused, though Bouncer wasn't sure why. It all felt... _right_. No one else was in the vicinity, so he turned to leave, switching his lights back to yellow.

It would only be a minute before he heard the splicer again, "Hey! HEY! WAIT UP!!" the splicer ran up to the Big Daddy, "Name's Wallace. Uh... gotta thank ya for what ya di-- HEY! WAIT UP!"

The Bouncer seemed apathetic, although in reality he had been looking through his side portholes. Wallace looked fine, and thus had no need of his protection. He had to move on.

"HEY! Ya got a name?"

"..."

"Right. Ya a silent type, eh? That's fine, mighty fine."

A curt grunt.

"Okay, okay, I get it, ya wanna be alone. Fine... fine. I'm gonna have to stop calling you 'Hey' though, seeing that ya saved my hide."

"..."

"Tell ya what. I'll call ya Green – how's that sound?

Another grunt. He did actually like it.

"Yeah well, ya tell me a better one and I'm all ears. No? Okay, Green it is."

******

And that's chapter 2! I actually rewrote this chapter; the first time around I wrote up a way for Green to have the capability of speech. Then I felt it might be fun to write him with normal Big Daddy speech. Anyway, as with the last chapter, do review!

P.S: One thing I'm curious; am I moving the story too quickly, or too slowly?


	3. Man, monster

**Note:** Chapter 3! Quicker than the last chapter, although to be fair, this chapter was originally supposed to be in Chapter 2. I broke it down just so I wouldn't plaster a wall of text in the last chapter :P

And as usual, hope you enjoy reading!

******

**Man, monster**

_:: click! Whirrrrrrrr.... ::_

_(Male voice; the same voice in the previous diary)_

_Choice. Choice is what the Protectors lack; they only do what they are **programmed **to do. But does it make them much different from us? What if their compulsion is no different from our own need to feed and sleep; their basic needs simply... refocused? If not for Suchong and Gil Alexander's work on their suits, the Protectors would simply fall over and die from lack of nutrients and fatigue._

_We can choose in what we do – the Protectors cannot, and thus they are inhuman. But what if one chooses to **be** a Protector? What does that make them?_

_:: click ::_

Another tingling sensation at the back of his head.

"Real nutjob, tha' one," Wallace had been accompanying Green since the Big Sister incident, picking up the scraps and scavenging Rapture's fall. "Why would anyone wanna be a Big Daddy, eh eh? Ya gotta be nuts if ya willingly loose yer mind, body and soul. Looks painful to be in too. Err, no offence..."

"..." _:: thump... thump... thump... ::_ Green's footsteps sent minor tremours throughout the hull of Rapture. He understood everything Wallace had said, but had no reason, no _need_, to react to him. Wallace was safe, and that is enough.

Although, he was indeed getting on Green's nerves.

He was getting more accustomed to his body; where once only numbness greeted his limbs, he could feel _through_ his suit – like faint prickly needles. It was also getting easier to think – not that he needed it. There was... something he needed, an... objective? He simply _knew_ that he had to keep moving.

"Hey," announced Wallace, scurrying over with to Green, cradling various bottles and tins. "Don't mean ta burst yer bubble, but the 'lil Sis ya lookin' for? They ain't 'round no more."

What was Wallace trying to do? Green felt that he should be angered at that statement, but he wasn't. Lil Sis... it felt... _familiar_, somehow. Maybe it was important? Nevermind, he just needed to move on.

They made their way into a room; another shattered suite of Rapture. Green saw a few EVE hypos lying around, which disappeared under Wallace a split second later. Groaning irritably, the Bouncer lazily lumbered to another corner of the room; the world was safe for the moment, and his joints refused to move any faster.

He proceeded to turn a few things (and tables) over. _No, not here_. Wallace did his own scavenging in another corner, muttering to himself, cheering as he found more hypos. No, nothing else was here, the Big Daddy concluded, and headed to the entrance; his footsteps announcing of his departure.

Wallace scrambled to catch up, cheerily tucking away two more hypos he had found somewhere. His cheer immediately turned into fright, as the sound of a shotgun cocking rang from the entrance.

Three splicers stood by the doorway; a Thuggish, a Leadhead and a Spider variety. The Leadhead held his shotgun in one hand at Green briefly, before turning it to Wallace.

"Well well well, if it ain't Wallace," the Spider cackled. "I see yer still bein' a lowdown thief. It ain't enough ya stole EVE from us, but now ya came ta rob lil ol' us blind!" The Spider's tone fluctuated, ending in hostility.

"In our turf, boyo, thieves get it proper," the Leadhead chimed in, "Ya know what that means?" Something in the gun clicked.

Wallace was shaking. "C'mon now, fellas! What's a lil bit of EVE now and then, ey? Plenty ta go arou--"

"There ain't _shit_ no more!!" The Thuggish blurted, "It's _all_ going to shit, and ya jus' gonna leave us ta rot!!"

"Oh hey, c'mon guys, can't we all be re-reasonable?" stuttered Wallace. "Look fellas, I got two more.." his voice drifted, as he realised there'd be four of them in total, "Aw hell, GET 'EM BIG FELLA!!"

"..." _Something_ had been unsettling Green ever since these three splicers showed up. The view of the shotgun, the hostile exchange between Wallace and the splicers... it unnerved him. Something whispers in his mind, something _bad_ was about to happen.

And yet, he couldn't summon the will to do anything. The world was still fine, still safe; there was no need to act, no need to do anything. He glanced out of his side portholes, and he saw that Wallace was trembling terribly. It felt... _wrong_. _Move in between them_, said his instincts. Letting out a long, passive moan, the Bouncer lazily lumbered his way towards the entrance, hoping to stand between the splicers and Wallace. There was something he needed to... _stop?_

The three splicers did not read his intentions, " Tha's real funny Wallace? Ya think we stupid? Ya ain't got no Hypno. Tin man's just gonna walk out on ya!"

"You're _meat_ now!" The Spider cackled, as the Leadhead took aim and fired.

******

Time slowed down as the Leadhead pulled the trigger; as if he could _sense_ the splicer's hostile intent. All at once, he felt his mind and vision focusing into crisp acuity; his limbs, once felt cumbersome and bulky now weighed like air. His mind instantly calculated and considered the strengths, weaknesses, and attack routes of the splicers. Just as the splicer pulled the trigger, his drill arm shot out, blocking most of the palletes of the shotgun. He vaguely heard a groan behind him; he knew Wallace had been hit, and his lights began to glow a dangerous red.

The Leadhead wasn't even aware of what had happened, even as his body rocked to the motion of the drill, piercing his abdomen. The Thuggish was stunned, mouth gaped open. Maybe his fight or flight kicked in the wrong direction. Or maybe he knew it was his end, no matter what he did. Regardless, he swung his futile wrench at the Big Daddy's helmet; as it as clanged annoyingly in Green's head, he growled dangerously and planted his fist into the splicer's face in a blur of motion. The Thuggish's body was sent flying, and then tumbling into the distance – the law of inertia finally taking hold as it lay in a crumpled heap against the wall.

The Spider sprang into action; leaping up and clinging for dear life on the ceiling, managing to fling a couple of hooks at Green as he leapt. One of them pinged off his helmet, sending another wave of vibrations (much to Green's dismay) – the other sank into a non-metallic part of his left arm. Green grunted, not feeling the pain, but realising that he had been damaged.

The Spider crept along the ceiling, bending impossibly as he disappeared into a vent. As a last ditch effort of revenge, the Spider flung a hook at Wallace, who had managed to roll away in time. "This _AIN'T_ the last ya seen o' me, WALLACE!!" he cried from the vent, and his scampering became softer and softer.

******

Wallace panted as he struggled to his feet. Limping, his white suit and trousers was soaked in fresh red blood; his abdomen and left leg had been hit. He reached down somewhere, picked up his white fedora hat and straightened it on his head, as casual as he can be. Green hadn't realised before, but Wallace's face wasn't as disfigured as the other splicers he had seen. Sure, there was a few lumps here and there, but he still maintained a rather human look comparitively.

Flicking his lights to back to a neutral yellow, he lumbered towards Wallace; instinct once again taking over the Big Daddy, as he knew the splicer had been injured. Wallace did not complain, as the Bouncer gestured softly at his abdomen and leg, changing his lights to green. The splicer nodded.

Green opened a nearby first aid kit, and pulled out a QuikAid spray-can; applying its ADAM-infused contents over Wallace's wounds. The splicer squirmed a little and gritted his teeth, but maintained silence. With difficulty, Green unrolled the bandaged supplied by the kit, and began to wrap the splicer's abdomen and leg.

"S'fine, Green. I can do it." A curt grunt was his only response, as a means to silence the splicer. There was... _compulsion_ on Green's part, that he _must_ finish this. Wallace looked on puzzled, but didn't resist. "Tch, _fine._ Ya wanna do the work, go ahead then!"

It felt like ages, as Green had to learn to overcome the short comings of his hands; an oversized hand and a drill for an arm, was not the best equipment when it came to bandages. Perhaps it had been an hour, or more, but the bandaging was finished at least. Somewhat.

"Ya tryin' ta turn me into a mummy?! _Gah!_" grumbled the splicer, "Ya shoulda let me do it; I can do twice the job, in half the time! Stupid tin man! S'least ya know how to use QuikAid; couple o' hours and I'll be right as rain."

Gradually turning his lights back to yellow, Wallace's complains seem to have gone over the Bouncer's head; he was unconcerned about his whinging. He was safe... now.

The splicer struggled to walk, before Green's left arm caught his eye, "Hey, wha's this?" he quipped, pointing to the Spider hook still stuck in the Big Daddy's arm.

"... Lemme get that for ya," Wallace continued calmly, as if regretting his earlier complains. He yanked the hook with one hand, in vain. "Hang on," as the splicer spat into both of his hands, and pulled at the hook with all his might. He literally had to plant both of his legs on the Big Daddy's body to get enough leverage. So it wasn't surprising that when the hook finally came off, the splicer sent himself tumbling backwards into some rubble.

"Gah, _shit!_ Scrawny bastard's got a good throwin' arm. _Fuckin'_ Joe."

Green eyed the hook that now lay on the floor, deep red blood mixed with black goo now seeped out of his arm. He knew exactly what he needed to do – going back to the QuickAid spray-can again, he obliterated it with his drill-arm, and let the contents leak into the tear of his suit, and his wound. Very slowly, he thought he saw his _suit_ seal itself in response to the QuickAid. Nevermind, that will be fine now, he knew.

He turned to Wallace, and flicked his green lights for a second, then back to yellow. The business in this suite is now done, and he had to move elsewhere. Wallace lagged behind, as he made sure to carry as much as he could, despite his injuries.

******

And there's Chapter 3! I thought it'd be cool to rationalise the awesome power of first aid kits from the game, so I thought of the idea of these little magical sprays, that closes wounds slowly once applied. It's playing on the idea of how Little Sisters are invulnerable; so I splashed a bit of ADAM into those sprays.

Also, do review!


	4. Lee Green

Obviously, chapter 4; I've been in the mood, and also I'm going away for a few days, so I figured I should get this chapter finished.

Thanks to all of you for your reviews; they've certainly been fuel for my mind, haha! I'm glad to hear that Helmeted have so far kept you entertained, and I've been having a blast writing it myself ^_^. I'll endeavour to keep it up!

******

**Lee Green**

A long corridor stretched out before the Bouncer; the glass windows to his left, reinforced to withstand the incredible pressure of the Atlantic sea bed, glowed a deceivingly peaceful blue. The shadowed visage of Rapture could be be clearly seen, its neon lights broken and displaced. The city that once promised greatness and freedom, is now drowning, barely clinging on the fringes of life.

Green took a moment to take in the view, before he took slow but firm steps onward. The hallway shook dangerously; more so than other parts of Rapture, and the Big Daddy instinctly knew that the foundations of this part of the city was failing. He should be outside, repairing the damages... but no one told him to do so, and thus, it was fine.

He felt drawn to the door at the end of the hallway. A line of security cameras also dotted the hallway, but the Bouncer felt unconcerned. Wallace stepped up to his side, and his hands began to streak with electricity.

"Ya wanna go there? 'kay, here's the plan, right, I shock 'em, and then-- HEY!"

Green had already moved on, as if completely ignoring Wallace. The splicer wasn't very impressed however, as he ran directly in front of Green, blocking his path.

"Don't ya go actin' stupid on me, big boy, 'cause I _know_ there's somethin' going on in tha' noggin of yers. We don't know who's rigged them cameras, and it'll all go to _shit_ if we don-- MRRPHHH!!"

_Enough_. There was nothing to worry about, Green felt... _sure_. The Bouncer had used his left hand (literally covering the whole of Wallace's head) to push him aside, albeit not-so-gently. He lumbered onwards, as one of the cameras began to sweep towards the Big Daddy. He did feel a twinge of happiness though, that the splicer was actually concerned for him.

"_FINE_. Ya own bloody _funeral_!" Wallace yelled as he closed his eyes, trying to avoid the inevitable. But instead, nothing came to pass; the camera continued to sweep across passively. Wallace crept out of his hiding place, and paced down cheerfully until he came under the scrutiny of one of the cameras. The camera fixated on Wallace, beeping and clicking alarmingly.

Instantly, Green turned around and let out of a loud, reverberating moan at Wallace. He swept his left arm out repeatedly, as if to say 'get back'. Wallace did not wait for Green's signal, immediately ducking out of sight, waiting for the beeps to subside. One click, two clicks, and the camera resumed its vigilant watch of the hallway. Green groaned loudly at Wallace; his deep voice vibrating the hull of Rapture.

"I dunno what the _fuck_ ya sayin', o'right?! But tell ya what – ya go do yer lil thing, and I'll just stay RIGHT HERE. Go on then! GO-- hey wait, ya really goin'??"

Green was pleased that the splicer got his message, and had immediately turned around when Wallace announced that he wasn't going to follow. Good, _very good_. He will be safe.

A light flickered at the top of door, and it swung open as the Bouncer approached it. Everything about this unnerved him; it was unfamiliar, _unknown_, but still he felt drawn in. There wasn't enough... _danger_ for him _not_ to enter. He felt that he... needed to be here. There was something he needed to... do?

The office sprang into life; various lights began to flicker on, the sounds of clicks and whirring machinary could be heard, but not seen. Green moaned in alarm and all around him, he could hear camera shutters snapping. The lights intensified for a moment, before dimming down to more comfortable levels. The monitor in a corner turned itself on, with the classic 'Please Stand By' message that can be seen all over Rapture.

Green couldn't make out the face of the man in the monitor; the central glass had been too badly scratched. The audio, however, was perfectly fine, and Green realised, it was the same man in the audio diaries he had picked up along the way. The man had a slight, strange accent to it.

******

_I'm glad you could make it in this far. My name is Lee. Lee... you know what, forget the surname. In a few days, Lee will cease to exist, and in his place, you, Protector Oh-A-Oh-Six (0A06). Yes, that is right. I were you. The DNA cameras in this office has confirmed it._

There was a pause, as the man leaned back in his chair; the same chair was present in the current office. The recording must have been taken here.

_(sigh)_

_Lamb has deemed me a liability, and as 'punishment' she will have me transformed into a Protector. 'To remove the Self, and serve the greater good', she said. I suppose, after all these years of being part of the Protector team, this fate isn't the worst by far. And Sam (snort), good ol' Sam. He will be carrying out the 'sentence', like some kind of... executioner in medieval times. But if I know him well enough, he will be using my own Protector plasmid concoction, along with the suit I've been tinkering with. A fitting end, he will believe. But this is what I **rely** on._

_(chuckle)_

_What Ryan and even Lamb sometimes forget, is that Rapture is the city of the **gifted**. All had hailed Suchong and Alexander on their work on the Protectors, but none has heard of us, the... 'little fellas'. I don't think that the memories of the Protectors are ever completely erased, as much of Suchong and Alexander believed, and I have a very strong... bond with my Sanctuary; where you are now. It is... more than home. I have many strong memories here, and I've been known to be a sentimental bastard, topside and otherwise. I gambled on this fact, that my... new mind... would subconciously seek out Sanctuary, and the fact that this recording is being played now, means that my gamble had succeeded._

_(pause, and Lee's tone becomes more serious; his hands could be seen clasping on the desk)_

_Working on the Protector team has given me ample opportunities for my own experiments, and I shall take this so-called 'punishment' as my own final experiment; that on myself. Much like Alexander, whom I would personally hail as a hero. Realise that, you do not have a protection bond to the Gatherers only. No, my final plasmid concoction does not limit your bond to a single subgroup of people – no, your bond extends to the whole of Mankind. Where there is violence, you will be there to stop it. Where there is despair, you will be there to protect._

_(sigh)_

_At least, I hope that will be the case. I do not think the bond to the Gatherers can be completely broken; Suchong and Alexander's work as been... thorough, but it is with hope that you can be more than what Suchong and Alexander dictated._

_(pause)_

_Before I say goodbye, this is my final gift to you. Do not fear what is to come – it's to help you, I assure you._

The machines in the room began to intensity their activity; the clicking and whirring can be very easily heard and _felt_. Green glanced around and moaned in alarm, trying to seek out the offending mechnicals.

_One last thing. Once you are exposed to the radiation, take the plasmid. It's one of my earlier works. It should work on you._

_(pause)_

_Goodbye, and hello. It's our birthday._

And then the room became impossibly bright. Green could feel his blood and fluids _boil_, even as the world of darkness greeted him...

******

The torn rug beneath him slowly came into view, as the veil of darkness gradually faded away. Groaning to himself softly, he heaved himself up, the limbs feeling heavier and more cumbersome than before. He let out a short grunt, hopping to his feet; the tremours causing the pictures in the room of fall off their hooks. He recalled everything that had happened, and confusion still invaded his thoughts. Out of one of the corner portholes, he noticed something on the desk that wasn't there before; a little glass jar, containing red murky liquid. He knew what it was, and.. simply stared at it.

Then he realised, that he was at a loss of what to _do_. The haze that contantly permeated his thoughts wasn't as thick as before, though the haze was _comforting_. This... Lee, was of no authority he recognised, and thus, he should have simply ignored the jar; but that was before the bright lights, where if he heard an order from an authority he instinctly knew, he would happily obey. The ADAM jar glowed invitingly in the dark, and the Bouncer recalled Lee's message. _Take the plasmid_.

The Big Daddy stared at the eerily glowing jar for one long minute, before _deciding_ to move forward and taking hold of it gently, careful not to break the jar. Using the supplied hypo with his left hand (very, _very_ carefully), he jabbed his right arm, through one of the tiny holes in his suit, and released the contents into his system. He felt his blood was _expanding_, become almost air-light. It wasn't painful, but it was very uncomfortable, and the Bouncer thought his body would explode when it spontaneously subsided.

He checked himself; grunting happily that he was not damaged. This was pleasing, his duties would not be hindered, and this brought... _comfort_. Turning around, he headed out of the office, wondering if Wallace had stayed safe in his absence.

******

And there you have it! I thought it would be nice to 'widen' Green's mental capabilities, as it allows more flexibility in writing later on. Hopefully it doesn't detract Green's character himself.

Also, I figure that the Big Daddies took orders from somewhere, when it came to repairing stuff in Rapture. I figure that perhaps Ryan's voice (and maybe a few buddies) may have been 'encoded' into the Big Daddies' programming – so they would follow his command.

And like always, do review if you can!


	5. Gambit

Hey guys, thank you **so much** for the reviews! I know, I know, I said it like a thousand times by now, but with all you lovely people's positive remarks, I really _**just have to**_! A huge thanks from the bottom of my heart; it really helps writing, knowing that it does _**actually**_entertain people (and me!) ^_^

And here's Chapter 5:

******

**Gambit**

Wallace had not been idle; his brainless iron guardian had been gone for nearly an hour, in a mysterious room with far too many hostile security cameras that he could care for. Probably more rooms inside.

_Brainless?_

_No._ He retracted that thought. Green had protected him, _**twice,**_ and though the bugger could only go 'Ooaaaaggghhhhh' and 'Onnnngggghhhhh', the hint of a Man was definitely behind those caged port-lights. That thought caused him to pause, and ponder.

_Or he could be one seriously screwed up Big Daddy, pun intended._

His EVE hypos were consumed to a last, single one, and he was beginning to... crave. He knew what would happen, what _had_ happened to the rest of Rapture – incoherent thoughts, _insatiable_ hunger for ADAM, exaggerated delusions of grandeur – all that, came from the _lack_ of splicing. EVE helped, but like a trickle of water in a desert, it still felt... _diluted_ compared to the wonderfully viscous, sickly red liquid. He felt that soon, even a constant supply of EVE would not satisfy his... lust. More ADAM needed to be found, just enough, to get out of this hell-hole.

_But what then...?_

No, one step at a time, one bridge to cross first. He will deal with it when the time comes, but first, _survival_.

He caught a glint of light at the corner of his eye; it was unassuming, possibly a nickel or equally trivial. But the scavenger in him told him otherwise, that _opportunity_ can present itself anywhere. So he shrugged his shoulders, and strode over quite casually.

A small vial of ADAM lay hidden beneath some torn and soaked newpapers. Instantly, his eyes flared, his body resisting every _urge _to smash the vial and lick the contents clean. And then paranoia set it; the last time he found a stash of EVE, it happened to be the savings of three other splicers. His head cocked in various directions, a hawk eyeing for danger, clutching his new-found loot with absolute _greed_.

"Fish caught da bait..." someone chuckled sinisterly in some dark corner. The silhouette of a tall, lanky male appeared out of the shadows, as if simply phasing into existence. Joe, the Spider splicer Wallace had met before.

"Honey, our guest is going through our things!" a worried high pitched voice came from around the corner; a female dressed in what would have been a beautiful blue blouse emerged, shotgun in hand. "It's so rude, darling... unless... UNLESS...!" she gasped.

"Don't ya worry none, doll-face. I'll take care of this wretch there for ya!" chirped the Spider, almost politely.

"Oh sweetie, don't be silly! He's a guest – I gotta get ta SERVING HIM, tee hee!" the pitch of her voice changed dangerously, as something clicked in her shotgun.

"Baby, what woulda do without yah?" cackled the Spider, and the both of them lunged at Wallace.

******

Fedora-head was not there. Green felt his body tense slightly, a sense of urgency rising within him. He recalled back to what Lee had told him; that his protection bond wasn't limited to the Gatherers. Does it make him care for those he protected? Or was it simply a job; those injured under his care would drive him insane, all because of an artificial bond? Was there even a difference? Should he even care?

He shocked himself for having these thoughts; thoughts that probably, no, _should_ have been alien to him. It was unnerving, _uncomfortable_. And almost unwelcomed. What in the world did those bright lights do?

Distantly, he could hear chatter and cackling. Nothing out of the ordinary, until the blast of a shotgun rang clearly in the haunted halls.

Time seemed to have slowed down, as Green's mind expanded, his senses sharpened. His body began to move on its own, and Green made no resistance; he knew something was _terribly_ wrong. His auditory senses, acute as they were now, guided his body towards the source of the gunshot, his legs felt numb from the sheer _speed_ of his running; it surprised even himself. He cared not however, as his body knew what it was doing.

As he turned a corner, uncomfortable questions crept into his mind. What if Wallace was the one that committed violence, the one that _shot_? What will he be forced to do?

His musings became interrupted as he turned another corner. The hallway opened up into a large hall of some kind; in the middle, Wallace was pinned down by a Spider that seemed oddly familiar, and a horrendously mutated female shoving a shotgun into Wallace's mouth. The woman's face was utterly _unnatural_, as if someone had attempted to mould the perfect face with _plastic_.

Green felt euphoric, relieved that Wallace was the one _in_ trouble. And then panic surged through his _veins_ as Wallace was only seconds away from becoming Rapture art décor.

His footsteps had already announced his arrival, as the Spider turned to meet the Bouncer's gaze. The Big Daddy roared dangerously, his gravel voice shaking the entirety of Rapture. But instead, the Spider grinned, flashing his few but razor sharp teeth. "Two birds wit' one stone," he cackled.

_:: STOMP, STOMP, STOMP, STOMP ::_ as Green rushed down the hallway. He did not care what the Spider just said, only that man needed to _die_. **Badly**. Suddenly however, searing pain shot through his entire body, his limbs going into spasm by their own accord; he had failed to noticed the cleverly placed wires at the mouth of the hallway. Roaring in pain, he collapsed onto the ground, his legs giving a final jitter, before becoming locked in place.

The duo laughed viscously at the immobile Big Daddy, "Ya're gonna watch _every_ moment o' this, Tin Daddy. But hold tha' thought! Ya'll be gettin' some attention too, don ya WORRY!!" cackled the Spider.

"Oh honey, let me do him too! Oh please, baby? It's our honeymoon!" pleaded the female Leadhead. "Sure, toots. I ain't nothin' but a gentleman."

"I LOVE you!" The Leadhead pumped her shotgun, muzzle still in Wallace's protesting mouth. Green moaned pathetically, weakly extending his left arm towards Wallace, his vision going blurry simply from the _effort_ of raising his hand. Damn those lights! They made him _weak_!

The duo simply turned to the groaning figure, and laughed. The high ground was theirs, and these two miserable insects, one of them a rather _large_ one, were powerless in their might. The duo were elated – even a Big Daddy was no match for them.

In their ecstasy of self-love, they suddenly found themselves kissing the wall, on the _other_ end of the hall. Something fierce had sent them _flying_.

The air surrounding Green shimmered a moment, particularly around his left hand. He felt his _blood_ expand, as energies gathered at his palm. A split second later, he _felt_ the splicers' bodies as his mind ordered the two to disappear. They were flung into the distance, and tumbled on the metal ground before smashing into the wall. This renewed the vigour in the Bouncer; there was no time to think of what had happened, but he was _glad_ it happened. He struggled to his feet, still falling down fairly often as his legs refused to behave normally. Wallace wasted no time either; already up and frantically searching for the dropped shotgun.

The Spider rolled his head in a daze, as his eyes caught the sight of the Leadhead, who laid still by the wall, her head coated in blood. He gritted his teeth (what's left of them), and glared at the two that dared to take his woman away. He snarled like a beast, and then abruptly _grinned_. He shall be the last one laughing.

"HEY! HEY YA FUCKERS!" the Spider yelled out, as he flung an audio diary, clicking the Play button as it left his fingers. "Somethin' for ya, bucket-head. He thinks he can be runnin' wit' ya, HAH!" the Spider cackled, as he dashed into one of the hallways in the room, grasping his ribs.

Green held out his left hand at the Spider, but felt nothing coursing through his veins. He was expended, tired; barely walking properly. Wallace was staring at the audio diary, mouth gaped open.

_******_

_... thinks h'mself greater than Lamb._ _**The**_ _Lamb._

It was Wallace's own voice.

_Th' damned Big Daddies better Utopians than Eleanor? **Her** Eleanor?! Fuckin' **blasphemy!!**_

_I dunno what th' fuck tha' nutjob's doin' with them Big Daddy formula, but Lamb's gonna love this. I'ma gettin' Sam in it. Bet he'll love ta see Lee's fuckin' face in a vat._

_:: click ::_

******

"... th' _fuck_ he got tha'? Oh... _shit_..." Wallace's gaze turned to meet Green's, who had his neutral yellow lights shining directly at him, barely an inch away. The white suited splicer tripped on his own feet backwards, cold sweat beginning to run down on his forehead.

"W-whoa _whoa _now big fella, no h-hard feelin's now... we all b-b-believed in Lamb tha' time, y'know...? C-c'mon man, t-this whole time w-we've been through...?"

The Bouncer understood the context of the audio diary. Wallace's reactions confirmed that the splicer was responsible for Lee's,_ his_, condition. He _should_ be feeling angry. He _should_ be filled with righteous fury, at the man that caused his transformation, the same man that **gambled** on the memory loss due to the Process, and exploited the safety of being around a Bouncer that had oddly enough, saved his life. Wallace should be _drilled_.

Lee certainly would have. But not Green.

He _couldn't_ even feel those emotions towards Wallace. The splicer had done no wrong to the Big Daddy ever since his awakening, only taking refuge in what the Bouncer had set out to do. Whatever wrong was done to Lee, a man that is nothing more than another echo in the ruined halls of Rapture. He did not live Lee's life, and the man's memories are but tingling sensations at the back of his brain.

There was nothing he could resent the splicer for. Wallace may have ended Lee's life, in a way, but it was _because_ of him, Green _exists_. And he _could not_ resent, nor pity himself in his current situation.

The Bouncer flashed momentary green lights, before turning around abruptly to leave. Wallace lay on the floor paralysed, utterly dazed that he was still breathing. It took him a full minute before he accepted what had happened, and caught up with the slow, lumbering behemoth.

******

And that's it! Green's plasmid is actually a rip-off of an ability from another game I absolutely enjoy (which I obviously don't own any rights to). It's pretty easy, and a star goes to anyone who guesses it correctly! (More like anyone that bothers to :P)

Of course, please review if you can! Constructive criticism is always welcomed ^_^


	6. Family

And the _**GREAT MYSTERIOUS**_ plasmid rip-off isss...... biotics, from Mass Effect, (or at least a modified form – it's like slightly advanced telekinesis). The Force is _**very**_ close, but that'd make Green insanely powerful. I mean, shooting lightning, ninja jumps, and force throwing his _**drill**_?

... actually, maybe I should go down that route ^_^

Anyway, just to reiterate, I don't own anything in this fiction. Except maybe Green and Wallace. Hope you enjoy!

******

**Family.**

He felt more comfortable in his body now, with both limitations and perks. His suit, his _skin,_ was extremely insensitive to touch, heat, and pressure, though moderately with pain. Generally, he would feel faint prickly sensations when he touched or held anything, but he would certainly know if he had been damaged. His breathing felt easy, with air constantly being fed by the tank he carried, though he had no sense of smell (the Bouncer wouldn't know, as you can't miss what you never had). He knew fluids were being pumped into his system; presumably from another tank on his body, and his vision through the eight portholes were comfortable. Just the way it _should_ be.

Wallace had found another tiny ADAM vial along the way, and had just finish injecting himself with the sweet, sickly red liquid. He instantly calmed down; a few minutes ago he was beginning to get jittery, although he had been rather quiet and _distant_ since meeting Joe, the Spider, a second time. The Big Daddy appreciated the silence (for once), but even he was beginning to feel that it was _too_ quiet. The splicer also took the liberty of clearing the rubble (where possible) in the Bouncer's path, although Green simply groaned at him each time. It was utterly unnecessary and silly. The last couple of ADAM vials must have been dodgy. Rather abruptly, his musings became interrupted, as Wallace spoke up casually as ever:

"So, w'at happens when ya needa go? Y'know... _nature_ stuff. Like crappin'."

Of all the questions... the Bouncer was now _sure_ that Wallace had injected himself with something _nasty_. He continued his slow lumbering steps as he pondered on this; his limbs absolutely refusing to move any faster, as there was no _need_ to. He wasn't sure of the answer; the only urges he had thus far were drilling the faces of _attackers_.

Silence ensued, and the splicer had just found some coffee lying on the floor, though the coffee must had gone bad a long time ago. But beggars cannot be choosy, and splicers seem to have rather strong stomachs.

"Mm-hm, figured ya'd say as much. Well, lemme put it up for yah," he paused, downing the coffee in one swift gulp. "Seein' that you Daddies can't eat, y'know, b'sides them Alphas, yer helmet's pretty much stuck on. So ya must be gettin' yer fuel or nutrients or w'atever from all them gizmoes on yer back. Ya probably don't needa crap or piss, 'cause yer body processin' everythin' efficiently. Get me?"

Green had not considered that, though he couldn't imagine _why_ he would... it seemed so... _trivial_. He grunted curtly, at least he should say he heard the splicer.

******

It was amazing that the Atlantic Express was still functional, although Wallace had explained that a certain 'Delta' had breathed new life into the derelict system. Green had no real direction in where he was going; only that his feet carried him onwards. Wallace didn't seem to question Green, although one would suppose that, after _sparing_ his life, he wasn't in the position of being critical. That, and the Bouncer was very well equipped to fend off attackers.

Pauper's Drop. A place that shouldn't be part of the Great Chain, but there it was, with flaming barrels and litter scattered everywhere, wooden planks hammered haphazardly into various structures, and doors wrapped over and over with chains and locks. Perhaps, in its ruined state, it appeared to be such a pitiful place. But it was hard to imagine how much _better_ the place could have been, during the Golden Time. At least it had a high ceiling.

A shadow moved in the corner of Green's eye(s); _something_ was on the rooftops. But his body ordered him to be complacent, and he found himself unable to resist, despite his mind being slightly more alert. No matter, Green had begun to trust his instincts; should anything happen, he would be able to react in a split second. Wallace planted his face on a window, as he had just used his final EVE hypo, and for obvious reasons, was scoping out for any signs of EVE, or better yet, ADAM.

"**_NO!_** What have you done?!" cried a woman somewhere, which was followed by a soft, _dissonant_ moan. Was there... sobbing? Something crashed, and Green could tell that it was scampering off on the rooftops again. Did it pause for a moment, noticing the duo?

"Tha' voice... it can't be. Rapture knows tha' voice _damn_ well..." exclaimed Wallace, surprise covering his features.

"There there, sweetheart... it'll be okay..."

Trusting his ears, Green stomped towards the sound of the voice, and the... _sobbing?_ The sobs were triggering _something_ in his body; something that sent tremors of _fear_ throughout his entire being. He wasn't sure if Wallace followed, or was left behind – but he should be fine.

Ignoring everything in his path, the Big Daddy roared as he crashed into a room, a few pieces of debris accelerating in front of him as he stopped. Two figures stood in front of him; an African-American elderly woman, who looked very... _normal,_ dressed in yellow with a walking stick, and a small tiny figure that huddled closed to the woman's leg, in a light pink dress.

"Get **BACK**, Tin Daddy! This ain't your daughter, you hear! You** GET **out, **NOW!** You h... ?!"

The woman's voice faded into the background, as the world seemed to have focused itself on the tiny figure by the lady's leg. She was... _crying_, holding a hand to her eyes, wiping away the tears and to shut out the world. She sobbed, and Green swore his heart (or hearts?) _skipped_, his entire body trembled with sorrow and... _pain_. He must hold her... he _must._..!

What followed was a blur. The Bouncer did not realised it, but he had brutally shoved the elderly woman aside with his left hand; she must have fallen, but that seemed... _unimportant_ right now. The little one shrieked. Green shuddered more, fear gripping his mind and body; his heart(s) pumped so much fluid, that it could explode. _No...! NO! It's okay... it's okay..._ he wanted to say, as soft moans left his mouth.

The little one squirmed as the Big Daddy picked her up gently; he had not _known_ he could handle such a delicate thing so _well_. He couldn't feel her; the pressure of her body on his suit, his _skin_ was so light that he couldn't feel her, but his body knew. His body knew what to do. She was the prettiest thing he could have possibly imagined; a light pink dress, her auburn hair tied back into a ponytail, her face smooth with rosy cheeks, albeit a bit dirty. The Big Daddy was in ecstasy, such a beautiful thing should... no, _needs_ protection... forever.

And the the little one screamed, "PUT MEE DOOOWWWNNN!" she wailed, tears constantly streaming down her eyes, "WAAAHHH, I WANT MY MOMMY!! **MOOOMMMMYYYY**!!!"

His vision refocused, and then the world returned to normal. In Green's left hand, was a little girl, no older than five; her eyes were a beautiful blue, covered in tears. Something was... _wrong._ This was not... _his?_ He sucked in a breath, eyes darting all over the place. This was not... his...

"Sorry big bud, but I reckon there ain't no Lil Sis 'round no more." a voice came from behind.

_Wallace?_ Green's eyes were still transfixed on the crying little figure his hand. He did not want to let go. But it felt _wrong_.

"Lemme help ya up. God, ya're one lucky woman, Grace Holloway."

"I don't count my luck being up," she struggled with Wallace's help. "You UNHAND that child RIGHT NOW!" the woman cried, as she swung her stick at the Bouncer's back, completely devoid of fear.

"_What th'_... stop tha', lady! Ya fuckin' nuts?! Don't piss him off!"

"I died a long time ago, Wallace! I ain't afraid to die another time!" she cried, swinging futilely at the behemoth. Green did not even notice the weak pings of Holloway's stick against his armour. But heard her, he did.

Very slowly, he turned around to face the singer; his lights were still a neutral yellow, as he gently extended his hand and offered the still sobbing girl to the elderly lady. She reached up, and gently took the girl away with both hands, cooing as she did so. The Bouncer flicked his lights green, and moaned sternly at Holloway, as the little girl's hand left his.

Switching his lights back to yellow, he flexed his fingers and stood perfectly still. In his mind, he began to replay all of Lee's audio recordings, seeking... _comfort_. But one line kept repeating.

She was not his.

******

Okay, so I tried my hand at making a more emotional chapter. It's a bit shorter than the others, but it felt right for me to end it right there. Anyway, I'd like to know your thoughts!


	7. Revitalised

**Glad** that you guys were positive of the last chapter! I had hoped I didn't write up a pile of stinking rotten cheese, haha!

At this moment, Wallace _believes_ that all the Little Sisters are gone. Whether that is true or not... we'll see ^_^

Anyways, onwards and... uhh... upwards?

******

**Revitalised**

… _don't think... memories... erased..._

"Heeeellllllooooooooooo?" Wallace waved a hand in front of Green's port-lights.

… _bond... Gatherers... Suchong... Alexander... thorough..._

"Damn son. If tha's w'at it takes ta shut down a Big Daddy, I oughta be makin' cut out pics o'kids," exclaimed Wallace with mirth, as he rapped a knuckled on a port-light.

… _Gatherers... Lil Sis...girl..._

It dawned upon the Bouncer that the Gatherers, the 'Lil Sis' as Wallace called them, were _little girls_. Never had he felt such an _intense_ emotion (granted, he hadn't been active for very long); so powerful, that he was _sure_ that any physical pain he would have felt was nothing compared to the frown of a _little girl_ – he would have been happy to _die_ just to see her smile. No, not just little girls. His gut _twisted_, when he discovered this little one was missing... _something_, but he was certain his body would know when it finally found one. Surely it was the sense of _longing_ he felt now, the drive which had set him aimlessly around Rapture.

His vision refocused, as his mind reconnected back into the world. Wallace was hovering in front of him, making a deaf sound; his auditory senses had shut down too apparently. His eyes lingered on the splicer; was a Little Sister's smile the same drug to him, as ADAM would be to Wallace?

Cooly, he rotated his drill slowly, and clenched his left hand into a fist. _No_, there is more to be done, so much... more...?

"So glad ya joined us, Green! Thought we lost ya there," Wallace turned to face Holloway; the woman still cradled the little girl, her sobbing coming to a stop. "Ya got some explainin' ta do, lady--"

"Me? **ME?!** You walkin' around with a Tin Daddy, and you want me to **explain** myself?"

Wallace snapped back, "Okay okay, so we all gotta lot o'catchin' up ta do. Sheesh lady. No need ta drive it in... eh? Alright then, since brutus here decided ta make... err, w'ats her name?"

"Anne."

"Okay, Anne – hello Anne!" Wallace gave a little wave, "Since she ended up cryin' her baby heart out, we'll go first, yeah?" Wallace took a pause, and chewed on pastry he found somewhere. "Righto, ya know me, Wallace, and this bad boy here is Green. Long story short, he's screwed up," Wallace paused to chuckle, amused at his own terrible pun, "Like _utterly_. Saved my life from Big Sis and others. Maybe he's missin' a Lil Sis so much, he's lost a few bolts in his noggin," he stopped there, conveniently missing out that Green was once Lee, a man he betrayed. "Yer turn."

"Anne..." Holloway let the little girl down. She was much calmer now, although is clearly trying to hide behind Holloway's legs, "... was brought here by Samantha. The... 'Big Sis' you're talkin' about. Sam still thinks I'm with Doctor Lamb... and still thinks more kids needs to be brought down. I ain't knowin' what happened to the Doctor," she paused, "But Sam's still doin' her mission..."

She traced her eyes towards the Bouncer, his neutral yellow lights turning to meet her gaze, knowing that her attention was on him. Green made no movement, no sound. Anne may not be a Little Sister... but seeing her upset, much less crying, was heart _wrenching_. He turned slightly, shining his lights directly onto the little figure; she ducked behind Holloway's legs even more, and Green felt a muscle in his heart(s) _twist_.

Holloway caught on, and her expression... softened. "I know a thinkin' man when I see one. Someone one not long ago showed me that," she paused, to ruffled Anne's hair, "C'mon out sweetie, Tin Daddy's a good guy." The little girl stepped out the shadows of Holloway's legs, but kept her chin low as she gazed at the Bouncer. She flashed a brief smile, before quicker hiding away again.

And Green felt... _happy._ That one little smile melted away all the troubles he had a minute ago. He couldn't help, but to moan cheerfully.

"He said the same thing," Holloway mumbled to herself, smiling just a little. "But Anne can't stay here. We gotta find a way topside."

"Well tha's all fine and dandy-like, but ain't ya forgettin', tha' Sinclair's sub is _gone?_ Speakin' of which, who th' fuck is that?" Wallace pointed at an armoured figure lying face-down, behind the bar counter.

******

"_Shit_. Never thought I'd be seein' this place," exclaimed Wallace, as Green stomped ahead into the atrium of Sinclair's Deluxe. "S'shithole really, but Sinclair's my hero. He knew how ta sniff out profit anyhow, _anywhere_."

Green grunted once, only mildly interested in this conversation. He wasn't even really sure why he needed to be here, but both Holloway and Wallace had _begged_ him. Even if he couldn't hold Anne, just seeing her brought _comfort_, thus he was more than happy just to stay near Anne. This Sinclair had no meaning to him – and Lee's whispering memories triggered nothing in his mind.

"Who _woulda_ thunk tha' Sam girl woulda save a dead Daddy when Persephone crumbled. Guess yer daughters still remember ya, ey?"

The Bouncer let out a deep, vibrating groan in annoyance, waving his drill at the splicer as he did so.

"_Touchy_."

They travelled a little further, stepping into a room. There was nothing extraordinary in this room, save what it mirrored the rest of Rapture; desolate, broken, the past haunting its present. The duo scavenged a few supplies; an EVE hypo, one medkit, and a bunch of snacks and cola.

"And _Sinclair_ no less," Wallace continued, "**Shit**. I mean... _damn_, I knew Lamb was ruthless, but she wouldna do..." Wallace turned to Green momentarily, "Actually she woulda. Ahem..."

An awkward silence followed, as Green continued to stomp forwards, sending tremors to the rooms all around. But he was lumbering at a slow pace, _annoyingly_ so for the splicer; the Bouncer's body refused move any quicker. The mind-haze did not lift itself when there was no urgency.

"Okay, ya go how ya wanna go," the splicer finally sighed, moving ahead, "I figure, if we looked hard enough, we can find some kinda... _blueprint_ or somethin'. I _know_ Sinclair. Workin' on them Vita Chambers is a _sweeeeetttt_ deal, and he's sure ta take a cut o' it, whether Ryan knew or nah."

******

Okay, a short chapter, and a bit of a boring one. I'm not gonna have internet access over the weekend, so I wanted to finish this, first before being TORN FROM MY LOVE!! xD

Also, I hope that Wallace isn't a terrible potty mouth; if he is, do let me know!


	8. Web

Alrighty, chapter 8! I'm aiming to do a chapter at least once every week, with around 1000-1500 words each chapter. Though holidays are soon over, and things may slow down a notch.

Don't worry though (if anyone's actually worried :P); I love writing these fics. Will be very hard for me to stop writing, unless work decides to be a complete arse. Which I hope not, for my own sake :P

******

**Web**

_:: whirrrrrrrrrrrr...! ::_

_(Sinclair's voice)_

_So this Lee guy comes along and starts yammerin' 'bout them Big Daddies. He can't even call 'em that, the nutter. **Protector **this, **Protector** that..._

_Dunno what he sees in 'em. Personally, I find that them just as heartwarmin' as it is **cooky **. It's like the best father-daughter relationship you'd ever see. That goes around suckin' up corpse-juices._

_Anyhoo, he wanna start up his own lil experiment, and came lookin' to me for fundin'. I kindly turned him down, o'course, cause there's no profit. And no profit's a waste o'time. He reckons that them Big Daddies got so much ADAM and plasmids in 'em, that they ain't far off from a Lil Sis, 'cept for the slug. He thinks that, if the Daddies are aware enough, they can manipulate ADAM to some degree, and then makin' some **real** juice with our plasmids. Like... quote, 'Fuckin' fire, lightning and ice all at once', unquote._

_Pure bullshit. Though I gotta admit, I'm more worried 'bout him givin' a Daddy awareness, then his actual experiment. I don't wanna be near one when they look into a mirror..._

_:: click! ::_

"Can't believe our luck? Though we shouldna be surprised 'bout Sinclair; ol' fox _did_ stash this circuit-widget-motherboard... thingie in his Deluxe. Guess he thought Ryan wouldna look there, eh? W'at ya think?" Wallace piped up, twirling the piece of gadgetry in his hand.

Green groaned, deep and long, neutrally. This _really_ wasn't important right now.

"AHA! Knew ya waz listenin' all this time."

Green then tensed his right arm, causing the drill to rotate very slowly, and then pointing it nonchalantly at the splicer; a way of saying 'Watch it'. His left hand tightened its grip; he had found a small child's toy during their escapade into Sinclair's Deluxe. It was brown, furry and seemed to mould to touch easily, with two buttons that represented eyes along with four distinct limbs. _Instinct_ told him that Anne might like it, so he picked it up. Wallace then called it a 'Teddy', when the splicer noticed him carrying it.

"Real sucker for lil kids, eh?" cackled the splicer. The Big Daddy didn't understand what was so amusing, so he ignored the splicer. For the first time, Green felt... _excited?_ He wanted to see Anne's reaction to the little Teddy, and ached to see her smile.

******

A small figure huddled close to a 'gun turret' as the adults called it; that it's a friend, ready to save the world and everyone. A huge, buzzing bee fluttered across; its eyes, so many eyes, glowed a lovely green, and so did the tip of its wings. Another friend, they said, that would keep her safe and sound.

**Why did they lie?**

"Wallace ain't th' only hacker in th' neighbourhood," the Spider hissed sinisterly, his hooked hand drawing closer around Holloway's neck. "Ya'll goin' topside, yea? I'ma comin' along, or ya be a neck short," Joe spoke in a cool manner, the Spider confident that he now has the upper hand.

Holloway cursed silently at her current situation, her shotgun lay on the ground just inches away. The Spider, Joe, managed to hack the security bots and the turrets remotely, and the Spider was far more _agile_ than the elderly woman. She cursed again as she gazed at Anne with her eyes, only a few feet away; a little girl no more than five, exposed to the horrors of Rapture. _How did it come to this_?

The Spider shot an evil eye at the little girl, flashing an unpleasant grin, "An' we all live happily ever after, ain't that right, sweetcakes?" Anne recoiled, hugging the turret even more, wishing that it would save everyone. _Why didn't it_?

The clomping of Green's heavy boots could easily be heard, but Joe had been waiting for this. Turning himself and Holloway around to face the hallway, he grinned in anticipation, the expression on his face rotten and warped from over-splicing – his left eye nearly covered from invading flesh of the cheek. How had he wanted to see the expression on Wallace's face.

"Ahh!" the Spider exclaimed, "Prodigal acquaintance returned! Ya really thunk ya coulda beat me with _security_...? YA REALLY THUNK YA COULD BEAT ME?! Don't go forgettin'... tha' _**I**_ made 'em. _**ME!!**_" All calmness within the Spider dissolved, as he triumphantly declared his victory, stating his superiority over these lesser beings.

"Well, ta be fair... ya had a team---"

"_**SHUT TH' FUCK UP! I MADE IT ALL! ME!!"**_ The madness was clear in his eyes. Of course, the glory of Rapture's security system – his Rapture – was his, and his alone. The maggots barely helped, simple _errand boys_ fit only to relay material.

Wallace just noticed that Green's lights were already a glaring orange; the Big Daddy won't hold back much longer. The splicer knew Green somehow valued the lives others – not just limited to Little Sisters. Holloway was still useful, and the splicer needed to act quickly to resolve the situation; otherwise the Bouncer would charge in, which could spell the end of the elderly woman.

"W'at ya want, Joey? Fuckin' revenge? We're all gonna die down 'ere anyway--"

"But that's the thin'" the Spider cut in sharply, "Ya'll goin' topside, and I want in--"

Green moaned loudly in protest. He knew this Spider, and he was not going to approve of it. Anne looked so _scared _huddling by the turret, and he wasn't going to let this... 'man' come along with her.

"**SHUT** ya fuckin' pet bucket-head up!!" the Spider yelled, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. "Ya'll brin' me up, or I cut this sweet lady's neck, and I sick my babies on ya. S'no-brainer, really," he let out a maniacal chuckle. Victory was indeed, his.

"_FINE_. Shit!"

"Any funny business," the Spider shoved Holloway in front, towards the duo, "And I set _all_ my babies on ya sad people, ya get? Oh _yea_. I've been busy."

Holloway walked ahead slowly, her heels clicking sharply on the metallic floor. She maintained her composure as she strode over, her eyes constantly flicking to the side. _What about Anne_?

She was just a few feet away from the duo, when the Spider suddenly announced, "_Fuck_ the surface," which ended with a resolute _click_. Holloway barely took another step, as the turrets and security bots blared their alarms... and their guns. Holloway collapsed forward, eyes wide open in shock – only a gasp escaped her lips, as her cry was silenced by abruptness.

******

The woman's figure dropped far slowly than it should have, appearing like a horrific slide show when viewed from Green's portholes. He felt his blood _burn _with rage, his left hand only halfway raised; too slow to release the pressure building up in his system. Another blast from the ballistics echoed, the _clink_ of the shell snapping out – those sounds shook the Bouncer back to reality. _Wallace._

Instantly, he swung his left hand at the gaping splicer, _squeezing_ every muscle in his body. Instinct had guided him to do so, instinct told him what he needed to do. And instinct was right; a faint blue transparent barrier formed around the splicer, water-like ripples propagated from where the bullets hit. The Big Daddy barely took in another breath, before he felt a wave of stinging pain on his own body, and quickly brought his drill to shield himself.

Mind and body screamed, as he maintained the barrier on Wallace while charging at the turret. He could _feel_ each and every bullet that struck the barrier, just as he could feel each and every bullet that struck him. Luckily his sense of pain was dulled, as he let out a terrifying roar; kicking the turret on its side and finalising his kill with a drill-stab, debris and sparks flying everywhere. Two security bots hovered overhead, their guns cooling down from their relentless fire. Green felt a wave a fatigue wash over him as his barrier dropped, relief instantly replacing the fatigue as he slowly recuperated from using his plasmid. But there was no time; the bots blared their alarms again and fired a few rounds at Green's helmet, sending deep _annoying_ vibrations into his headpiece. A few bullets bit into the softer parts of his body.

And then one of the bots was struck with some electrical dart. It sparked and sputtered, struggling to maintain altitude. But as quickly as it happened, the flying robot _whirred_ back to its original altitude; the red lights slowly shifted to yellow, and then green. It swivelled and let loose a merciless barrage at the hostile robot, causing it to explode and flying wildly into a wall, sending dangerous bits of its propeller in every direction. In the corner of his portholes, Wallace flicked his wrist, some wires and a gadget of sorts attached to it. The Bouncer shifted his view through his forward portlights, drill spinning viciously; the Spider couldn't be far.

He was wrong.

Joe hung from a ceiling vent with one arm... and in his other, cradled an exceptionally frightened Anne. The Spider was grinning endlessly, victory he had still claimed.

"Wit' sweetcakes, I be gettin' all the ADAM I **WANT!**" he cackled, swinging his legs into the vent with impossible acrobatic skill, "Can't be hard Little Sister'ing her!!"

Green shot out his left hand, the Spider's hand was still visible. His body felt tired, but he knew he could do it, just like before. Feel the blood, feel the tension, and _releasing_ it. But at the moment of critical decision, he hesitated; something inside of him screamed at him to stop. **'Little Sister'ing'**... could it possibly mean... does it mean... Anne will be... _right?_ _His?_

"I AM KING!" the Spider yelled from the vents, "SECURITY! ADAM! ALL **MINE!!**" he cackled maniacally, as the thumping in the vents got fainter, and fainter.

Wallace dove in and snatched Holloway's shotgun, firing futilely at the ceiling, "_**JOOOOEEEEEEYYYYY!!!" **_he cried, as the next trigger ended with a soft _click_. Curling his lips into a snarl, he flung at gun at the ground, causing it to bounce up a few inches... and glared at the Big Daddy.

"Th' _fuck_ ya doin'?! I saw it, ya had yer hand on 'im.... ya HAD 'im!!" he yelled, referring to Green's new plasmid, "But ya chickened! A _fuckin'_ **BIG DADDY** goin' _yellow bellied!!_" he paused.

"**FuuuuuuccCCCCKKKK**!!!! Fuck fuck _FUCK_!!!" He turned away from the Bouncer, yelling at no one in particular. He inhaled deeply many times, before cooling down. Green simply stood there, dumbfounded.

The splicer heaved a sigh, before speaking in a calm manner, "Look buddy, gettin' Sister'd is... terrible, o'right? It's like... becomin'... _ya_, but as a fuckin' _kid_. It's literally killin' Anne," Wallace paused, letting the message sink in. Green felt his heart(s) skip, his portlights began to fluctuate in different shades of colour, ranging from red, to yellow, to orange, to red again.

"Ya don't want ta be responsible for it. _Trust_ me..." Wallace drifted off, "I din care at first... hell, I din care none at all. Not 'til I saw w'at ya been doin'."

There was a silence, and Green found himself fighting his thoughts, his emotions, Suchong's conditioning, _everything_.

"We'll get 'er back. But right now, we need Sinclair. Joey's got th' whole place locked down an' souped up, an' Sinclair's th' only one that woulda know this place more than anyone. I hope that gadget we found works on a Vita Chamber... for our sakes..."

Wallace had moved ahead of Green, a determined expression on his face. The Bouncer didn't immediately follow, instead he turned around to catch the sight of Holloway's lifeless form, thudding his way towards her; the Teddy had somehow ended up beside the woman. He let out a long sorrowful moan, as he picked up the elderly woman's body, cradling her in his left arm. He continued to moan mournfully, as he lumbered onwards, trying to catch up with Wallace.

******

Okay, this chapter took a completely different turn while I wrote it. Joe the Spider, who initially began as a 'oh look, spider splicer guy' turned into someone _I_ felt disgusted to write about.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!


	9. Sinclair's Solution

Chapter 9! I know you guys were just **dying** for this one, so allow me to **consume** 5 minutes of your life, muahahahah!

I've been getting myself involve in some Bioshock RP recently, so forgive me for not updating soon :(

******

**Sinclair's Solution**

A smile was what he had hoped for; to see those little lips curling upwards, barely showing the underdeveloped teeth, her cheeks puffed red with joy. The eyes narrowing slightly, glittering with innocence. Something _worth_ protecting.

But that was not what had happened.

He glanced through his lower portholes, eyeing the lifeless form of Holloway. She seemed peaceful, her duty in the mortal world finally done. This woman struggled to protect Anne... an _angel_ in the Bouncer's mind.

_Angel_. The word sent shivers through his system, a word that brought both dread and joy. But the Bouncer did not know why.

All these thoughts stung his mind. It felt like a lifetime ago, when all of these didn't matter... until the lights in Lee's room. It was not as if he didn't understand the world, no, he surely did. He understood everything that went around him, the words, the signs... but he simply _couldn't _care; it felt like forgetting a thought you just came up a second ago, or struggling to remember something that was _familiar_; like the name of a person whose face you _knew_.

While Green had been busy being lost in his thoughts, Wallace had not been idle; determination clearly set into his face. A new force seemed to be driving the white suited splicer, as he tinkered a Vita Chamber with renewed purpose. Or perhaps he was just angry?

"Put 'er down already, fer _fuck's_ sake!" the splicer shouted, as he hopped down from the Vita Chamber.

"It nae gonna brin' her back, okay?!" Wallace spat, bitter. He turned at the Vita Chamber, and threw the wrench nearly savagely.

"Fuckin' Ryan. He jus' had ta be greedy and make them work only fer him. _Fuck!!_" the splicer yelled futilely at the Chamber.

Green watched the splicer for a moment, his own port-lights descending into a gloomy orange; the splicer's sentiment echoed his own. There stood a machine that could bring a disintegrated person back to life... and it only worked on one person.

But that will change today.

"Sinclair's widget bet'er work. Cause I be runnin' outta patience – Joey's gotta die," he remarked coolly, "And now, fer th' final piece o' th' puzzle," he pulled out a syringe and stabbed Sinclair's body unceremoniously, through one of the tiny holes in Sinclair's suit. He drew the plunger, allowing the blackish-red liquid to fill the cylinder, and then emptied the contents into a receptacal in Sinclair's gadget.

Both Bouncer and splicer observed the Chamber in wonder; as electrical sparks began to light the interior... and watched the Alpha Series Sinclair being reconstructed – every muscle fibre, every mechanical gauge, every electronical wiring – in real time. The whole process took about 30 minutes, before the glass doors slid open, and out fell a barely breathing Alpha Big Daddy. The creature groaned, his laboured breathing could be heard easily outside of his suit.

The Vita Chamber began to release wild sparks, before the several tiny explosions radiated from the gadget. A massive bolt of lightning ran through the Chamber, before one final explosion, signalling the end of the Chamber's life.

Sinclair groaned, his voice strange, deep and hollow, _distorted_ like any Big Daddy. He began to push himself up... before he suddenly collapsed into the cold, metal floor, his limbs going into spasm. He _howled _in agony, and between the pained cries, Sinclair managed to seethe out out a '"You. Br-brought... me. B-back...?!"

"_Shit!_ Lamb never intended 'im ta survive... she musta cut short the Process!" shrieked Wallace, his brilliant plan showings signs of a backfire; Sofia Lamb had modified the Process when she caught Sinclair. And it was unique only to Sinclair, just as the madwoman intended.

Green remained silent. He watched the entire scent with an uncompromising focus, as he felt something stir within him. It was innate, like how a splicer would use a plasmid; it felt like he could do _something_ to help this creature. He stomped over to the writhing figure of Sinclair, his drill spinning slowly.

And then he stabbed his drill into Sinclair's hand, causing blackish-red fluid to ooze out. The Alpha didn't even seem to notice this, as he was far more occupied with a different agony.

"W'at the _fu--_" Wallace's voice fell into the distance, as the Bouncer mentally commanded the tiny holes in his glove to open, and placed his left hand on the open wound, where the fluid was seeping out. There was something very _familiar_ with this – the same fluid, the same ADAM, flowed through his own systems, and he _knew_ he could control it. His mind traced back to Lee's last audio dairy... and then realised what his former self had meant.

It felt like a jigsaw puzzle in a mindscape setting; the _flow_ of Sinclair's fluids were wrong, _blocked_. Green needed to pull the components into the right position, as he tensed his left hand. He needed to make Sinclair's body be at harmony with itself.

Sinclair's blood began to glow a hot red-white, and the same light began to escape the tiny holes in Green's glove. There was a deep, pleasant hum, and the two were engulfed in a brilliant flash.

It took a good ten seconds later for the light to subside, and when it did, Sinclair lay still on the ground. Green stood up, and a loud puff of steam escaped his suit.

"W'at the... ya din hafta **kill** him! GOD! There coulda been other ways, _better_ ways ya fuckin' ninny!" yelled Wallace, his eyes glaring at the still figure of Sinclair.

The Bouncer turned around, groaning in protest, his lights decending into an annoyed orange. The splicer completely misunderstood him.

"I. Ain't... dead." heaved Sinclair, as he spoke the words. It was excruciatingly clear that it took every once of willpower for the Alpha to speak; it even sounded _painful_ for him. But Sofia's mockery of the Process was a blessing in disguise; Sinclair was not bonded, could speak, and with Sofia gone, maintained free will.

******

Sinclair punched the keypad with his Big Daddy fingers... and after retrying a few times (he kept pressing the wrong ones unintentionally), lifted the lock-down on the area. Wallace had been looking over the systems and gauges on Green's suit, putting his electronical and mechanical expertise to use.

"This ain't sloppy work at all," the splicer whistled, "When ya lot get a spring loose or whatnot, jus' come runnin' ta me, and I'll fix ya right up," Wallace proudly exclaimed.

"Plan. I... go. Find. Sub. Contact... by radio," heaved Sinclair, each word a clear expression of pain.

"Well, w'at the hell are Green and I gonna do?" whined Wallace, "We still got Anne and Joey ta deal with!" Green groaned in agreement, momentarily flipping his lights to red.

"Find. Them. Can't... help... don't. Know. How."

"Great use ya are. Hmph. Fine then... I hope ya got _another_ secret sub somewhere. C'mon Greenie, we got a spider ta squash."

******

And that's chapter 9! I did wonder how did Delta 'know' how to rescue a Little Sister, as he didn't receive the plasmid like Jack did from Tenenbaum. And so my long winded explanation of how Green saves Sinclair (starting from Chapter 8 :P).

Anyway, if you've got any ideas of how to improve my writing, or make things more interesting, let me know!


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